


Stars to Hold Our Destiny

by MissBee4343



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: BAMF Hunk (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Detective Keith (Voltron), F/F, F/M, Garrison trio, Gen, Jewish Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Magical Realism, Mystery, Paranormal, TBD Ships, Voltron Lions as Cats, everyone is a hot mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 18:43:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16203413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissBee4343/pseuds/MissBee4343
Summary: Keith Kogane is a rookie detective trying to solve a new case that is eerily reminiscent of his past. It's not easy - but it would be a lot easier if three, mysterious college students would get out of his way. But as he finds himself deeper in the case he find himself more embroiled in schemes and secrets that can no longer be explained with pure science and that force him to rely on these new, unlikely allies.





	Stars to Hold Our Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> Do you like supernatural paranormal mysteries and riddles? Well, hopefully you'll like this too.

 

“There is one more, where is she?” 

The man, still a boy really, looks towards his unconscious parents on the ground. They’re gagged with dirty cloth, blood seeping from their temples. He spits at the attacker. “Safe from you,” he growls as he tries to loosen the binds around his wrists.

The attacker wipes the saliva off his face distastefully and slaps the boy across the face. The boy falls onto his nose, unable to break the fall with his hands. “Everyone knows how close you and your sister are _Matthew Holt,_ you know where she is,” he rests his boot on his ankle and grinds down with the heel.

Matthew lets out a muffled cry.

“Now: Tell. Me. Where. She. is.”

 Matt sees his opportunity and grabs it. The man is off balance as he rests one foot on Matt’s ankle, he jerks up his leg quickly and send the attacker sprawling as she Matt surges forward from his spot on the ground. He locks his teeth around the man’s cheek and jerks violently. Blood courses into his mouth, the man screams and pushes Matt off of him. Then: three quick punches. One, Matt’s face slams into the wooden floor. Two, Matt lets out a gurgled cry as he bites deep into his lip, driven by the force of the punch. Three, darkness.

 

* * *

 

“We’ve got another kidnapping Shiro, first thing today.” Keith moved to light his cigarette, Shiro knocked it out of his hand.

“We talked about this Keith.” He frowned, “You said you were quitting…”

“You can lecture me all you want later _dad_ ,” Keith rolled his eyes, “But right now we’ve got a houseful of nothing and four missing persons reports.”

“A whole family?” Shiro sounded breathless.

Keith stiffened, “It’s probably unrelated,” he squeezed Shiro’s shoulder, “We’ll find them all on a spontaneous road trip in the next 24 hours.”

Shiro nodded. “Right, well, let’s get this show on the road.”

It is clear immediately when they walk into the house that the family is on no road trip. Keith chewed nervously on an unlit cigarette between his teeth.  He looked over towards Shiro, forehead creased in concern, but the air force veteran was apparently all business, unaffected by the gore in front of them. The air was thick and metallic with blood. Keith walked around gingerly, surveying the scene.

“What time did you get the call?” Shiro asked the policeman standing nearby, languidly leaning against the wall.

The officer hummed, “Hmm...I’d say about 3:00 last night. Boy called in, seemed pretty shook up, y’know?”

 Shiro nodded. “Understandable. What was he doing here at 3:00?”

 He shrugged. “Name’s Pidge Gunderson. Says he’s…” the officer shifted uncomfortably. “Well, you know man...the way these kids are now-a-days…”

 “His boyfriend. You mean he’s Matt Holt’s boyfriend.” Finished Keith, face unreadable. The Officer avoids his gaze.

 “But what was he doing here so late?” Shiro interrupted hastily.

 “Kid says he and Holt were gonna watch a movie.”

 Shiro smiled sadly, “Yeah that _does_ sound like Matt but…”

 He doesn’t finish the sentence but Keith knew the question on Shiro’s mind: why hadn’t Matt mentioned to _Shiro_ he had a boyfriend. The two were close and Matt Holt was awful at keeping secrets. This could only mean one thing: this Gunderson character was not who he said he was. The two shared a glance.

 “Watch the entrance. We’ll investigate the crime scene.”

 Usually when Keith saw a crime scene he could trace the series of events, like he’s watching a movie, that was why he rose so quickly through the ranks to reach detective. But looking at the gory scene in front of him, no vision comes. He doesn’t even know where to start his search. His eyes are drawn to a white splotch on the ground, Keith gestured to Shiro and walked towards it.

 Shiro leaned down and sniffs. “Bleach. So it looks like our kidnapper didn’t escape totally unscathed. They didn’t bother cleaning up anywhere else.”

 Keith nodded and his face morphed into a smile. Shiro looks rightfully concerned. “Do you think it was Katie or Matt who took a bite outta him?” Joked Keith.

 Shiro laughed. “My money’s on Katie.”

 Keith smirked and rubbed the back of his neck, “I hope so...I don’t know who it is and what Katie did to them, but I hope she hurt him. Badly.” He gazed across the room his eyes catching on those tiny details that only guests noticed. The remote half hidden under a cushion, the quilt lying in a bundle on an armchair, the touristy knick-knacks on the wall (Matthew Mtw. and Katie Ct.), a family portrait across the hearth…

 Something caught Keith’s eyes. He gestured to Shiro. Under the rug the barest hint of indentations are visible. “You’ve got your gloves on?”

 “You know it,” Shiro ever-so-gently lifted up the corner of the rug, his breath catches.

 

_HIDE_

 

The letters are scratched into the wood floor crudely, all angles, quickly sketched.

 Keith leaned closer… “But how...” there, something shining nearby.

 Shiro marked where the object laid and picked it up gingerly. “An earring.” He looks over towards Keith meaningfully. “Katie Holt never pierced her ears.”

 “Colleen Holt was our engraver then.”

 Shiro nodded in affirmation.

 Keith rubbed his chin, a series of images playing across his mind’s eyes; the family restrained on the ground, Katie somehow breaking free and attacking the kidnapper, Colleen carving the message onto the floor while everyone else is distracted…

 “But why does she want us to hide...and who?” Shiro finishes Keith’s thoughts for him. He bent closer to the floor. “There’s blood. We’ll have to send it in for testing -can you hand me the kit?”

 Keith nodded and handed over a forensic kit. “Do you think it’s the kidnapper’s?”

 Shiro shook his head. “No...why would they bleach one part of the carpet but not the other. But still: it’s worth a try right?”

 Keith nodded solemnly as Shiro took samples of the dried blood on the floor. He took the chance to look around the scene more. He couldn’t focus though, his eyes were continuously drawn to Shiro’s face, searching for any discomfort on his partner’s face. After what happened to Shiro all those years ago, the idea that he could still come to scenes like this and…

 “Hey Keith!”

 Keith jumped, torn from his thoughts. “Yeah?”

 “You might want to see this.”

 Keith walked over towards Shiro and looked around slowly. “Uh...see what?”

 Shiro pointed to the ceiling. His face is a mask.

 There’s a series of carving in the ceiling, two diagonal lines like an incomplete triangle and several smaller lines where the base of the triangle should have been. Unlike Colleen Holt’s desperate carvings in the floor, these were deliberate and deep. Whoever took the Holts had wanted the police to see it. Keith had seen these carvings before, on Shiro’s chest, on the walls of his own childhood home, and the houses of countless homes across the city. Keith’s stomach drops.

 “Look.” Shiro pointed again, the vent on the ceiling is half ajar.

 “I don’t understand…” Keith’s breath comes in short gasps.

 

“Whoever did this...they’d have to be small enough to fit through a ceiling vent, but tall enough to reach the ceiling it doesn’t make anysense.” Shiro caught sight of Keith’s face and his brows furrow. “Keith, we don’t have to take this case if--”

 “No. The case is ours.”

 “Are you sure? Everyone would understand-”

 “I want this case.” Keith’s voice was low and gravelly. There is no room for argument. “Please Shiro.”

 Shiro turned away. “It’s not good for either of us to be on this case Keith,” he whispered back and snuck a glance at the policeman at the door. “3 weeks. 3 weeks and then we give it to someone else.” He held out a hand. “Deal?”

 “Deal.” Keith firmly grasped Shiro’s hand. “So where do we start now?”

 “We find Pidge Gunderson.”

* * *

 

 Hunk was drizzling syrup over a tall stack of pancakes when Pidge arrived, the bells on the door knob ringing softly as it closed. The kitchen was a soft, buttery yellow, and rays of sunshine just beginning to shine through the window. He looked up, surprised. “Pidge?”

 He and Lance aren’t sure where the nickname came from...maybe because, Lance had given her “Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus!” a few Christmases ago and followed up with a new book each year. Perhaps it was Pidge’s former obsession with Carrier Pigeons. Or, how uncannily large her golden eyes looked from behind her round glasses. They called her Pidge and it stuck.

 Lance slid into the kitchen in his socks. “Hey! Pidge is here. What’s up buddy - Holy Crow! What happened to your hair?”

 Pidge, aka Katie Holt, was standing in their kitchen in her usual flannel and jeans, with just one difference: her waist length hair was gone. She looked between the two of them and immediately sets down her bag, slides to the ground, and begins to type furiously on her laptop.

 “Uh, Pidge?” Lance looked back and forth between Pidge and Hunk as if to say, ‘are you seeing this?’

 “I need your clothes Lance. Anything you’ve outgrown.”

 Lance pouted, “I still _like_ wearing those.”

 Hunk set down the syrup slowly, eyebrows furrowed. “I made banana pancakes. Yours and Lance’s favorite.”

 Lance squeals in delight and Pidge looks up dully. Hunk and Lance exchange glances, nod at each other, walk over and sit on the warm tile on either side of Pidge. Almost immediately Lance lays his head against Pidge’s shoulder and Hunk extends his arm around both of their backs. It’s a practiced move and each makes small adjustments until they are comfortable without really realizing it. For a while, the room was silent except for the sharp clicking of Pidge’s keyboard.

 “They took them.” Pidge says finally.

 “Are you sure it’s them?” Hunk’s tone is cautious.

 Pidge shifted the computer to face Hunk. “I took pictures of the crime scene. Their symbol is right on the ceiling next to the vent. Just like always.”

 Lance was silent next to the two of them.

 “I’ve hacked into the US census though.  As far as anyone knows Pidge Gunderson is a perfectly ordinary college student who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Her voice cracked, “The police can’t know I escaped.”

 Hunk tried to ignore how casual Pidge’s voice was as she broke a federal law. “But Pidge, don’t you think that maybe they could hel-”

 “No.” Lance cut Hunks off. “We don’t know how far the corruption goes. No one can know except us.”

 Pidge nodded. “No one.”

 Hunk sighed. “Okay.”

 Then, all their eyes moved towards Lance. Lance shifted uncomfortably.

 “Lance…” Pidge closed her laptop and started rummaging through her bag. Finally she pulled out a small ziplock bag, with three groups of feathery, copper hair. Lance straightened. Ordinarily he would have made a joke, but it’s hard to do that when your best friend’s family is missing.

 Lance signed and held out his hand for the bag. Carefully and delicately he opened it and arranged the three loops of hair on the ground. With Hunk and Pidge looking over, their faces unreadable, he touched each lock silently, brows furrowing with each progressive one and sweat gathering on his temples. Finally he collapses against the kitchen cabinet, breathing hard.

 “So?” Pidge’s eyes are squeezed shut behind her over large glasses.

 “Pidge, thank god” Lance looked sharply towards the ground and Pidge’s breath catches in her throat. “Your brother still owes me fifty bucks.”

 Pidge smacked him hard across the arm -it hurt, but she was smiling. Hunk stood up and grabbed the pancakes and a couple of forks. The three of them immediately began to tear into the stack. Occasionally, Lance would try to steal a piece of pancake close to Pidge -who would promptly threaten to get syrup in his hair. It was a risk the newly-showered Lance was unwilling to take.

 “We knew this was going to happen...I just didn’t think so soon.” Pidge was helping Hunk wash the dishes as Lance dried

 “Doesn’t that mean that we _didn’t_ really know this was going to happen?” Offers Lance.

 Pidge took the nozzle off the sink and sprays a stream of water at Lance, who screamed indignantly. “Less sassy sassy, more dry-y dry-y, Lancelot.”

Hunk squeezed between the two of them before anymore water damage can be done to the kitchen. “So...what do we do Pidge? Are you still going to go to class with your new alter ego...or?”

He trailed off. Pidge shook her head. The three of them were enrolled in the university. Hunk in engineering, Pidge in Mathematics and Comp Sci, and Lance in Psychology. It was around midterms, so none of them were keen on missing classes.

 “All I know is that I’ve gotta get to the lab ASAP.”

 “Au contraire mon petite Pidgette.” Lance puffed out his chest, throwing the slightly damp towel over his shoulder. “ _We_ are getting to the lab ASAP.”

 Hunk nodded vigorously in agreement. “Uh-huh, that’s right! We’re...wait what?”

 Lance nodded. “Look Pidge, Hunk and I are not going to let you go there alone. Right, Hunk?”

 Hunk shifted his weight clearly in disagreement. “Oh geez guys, there’s so many spiders there…”

 “Probably the size of Pidge’s tiny little body, Hunk.”

 Hunk sighed, shook his head, then nodded determinedly. “Yeah! You aren’t going anywhere without us!”

 Lance thumped Hunk on the back, hard, “That’s the spirit my dude!”

 Pidge’s eyes narrowed, “Hang on, don’t I get a choice if you two-”

 “Nope.” Lance pops the ‘p’ as he interrupted the smaller student and ruffled her hair. Pidge shoved his hand off.

 It’s a strange image. Pidge’s family missing, Pidge hacking into the government to create a cover, Lance teasing her like everything is normal, and Hunk doting on each of them. It gave them a sense of normalcy though, as if even though everything was completely and incredibly wrong, it would still be possible to return to how it was supposed to be.

* * *

 

The lab couldn’t be reached by car, so Lance and Hunk both broke out their mountain bikes. Pidge was perched in front of Hunk, squished in the front basket of his bike since his was bigger than Lance’s. Lance meanwhile, had coffee duty. His front basket wass filled with three thermoses, black for Hunk and Pidge, and milk and cinnamon for his. Lance’s mother used to always put a cinnamon stick in the coffee carafe, but Lance had to make due with ground cinnamon.

 The sky above them was heavy and pregnant with rain, and Lance very much wanted to be caught in the storm. But he could already see the tip of the lab’s corrugated roof sticking out from the ivy and trees. Besides, neither Pidge nor Hunk were overly fond of getting wet.

 Lance and Hunk slowed to a stop and Pidge hopped out of the basket. The three of them pulled their bikes into a dilapidated shed and cover them with some tarps, with a nod, they follow Pidge behind the building. The back didn’t look much better than the front, there was rust behind the pipes, and some of the wall was caved in, weeds pushing between the cracks.

 Lance grabbed the coffee as it threatened to slide out of the basket. “Look sharp Pidge, Hunk!” He crowed tossing two towards them. Pidge picked hers out of the air and then jumped (higher than she should be allowed in Lance’s opinion) to grab Hunk’s before he could get it.

 “You packed me two coffees Lance? You really are a gentleman.”

 Hunk plucked the yellow thermos out of Pidge’s hands. “Don’t forget who makes you both breakfast.”

 “And lunch” Added Lance.

 “And dinner,” Pidge nudged Hunk cheekily.

 All of them turn to the dilapidated building as Pidge, chin in hand, looked intensely at the weeds and bushes. “God, I hate plants, let me see…” She parted a particularly thick throng of weeds and hummed in satisfaction. Grunting, as if tugging something heavy, she sent a wink to Lance and Hunk. “I’ll clear out the spiders for you guys.” And without another words, she slid forward and disappeared.

 Neither Lance nor Hunk looked very concerned that the smallest of their trio had disappeared down a seemingly endless black hole.  Instead, the two of them were engaged in a very competitive game of rock, paper, scissors. Hunk always used rock, which was a problem because Lance always used scissors.

 “Hunk I took a shower...it’s still going to be dusty,” moaned Lance, draping himself over his larger friend.

 “Sorry Bud. Rules are rules. Nothing I can do.” He didn’t sound very sorry.

 Lance disentangled himself and walks to the gaping hole on the side of the buildings. “Alright, alright,” he flashed a quick smile towards Hunk, “See ya on the flip side Dude.”

 There was a musty smell which seemed to rise from the square tunnel, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It reminded Lance of his abuelita’s room, when he hid in her closet and the smell of old linens and dry roses reached his nose, of buttery sunlight shooting patterns across the wall that shifted as the leaves outside moved in the spring and summer winds. It smelled like opening the windows after springtime, like home and childhood. Closing his eyes he slid into the tunnel and the world slipped away. It’s slanted steeply, at first, like some sort of underground playground slide that hadn’t been cleaned by anything for years and took you to a secret lab. Which it was, minus the playground.

 It dropped him into a pool of water that sends shivers throughout his entire body, and for a moment, Lance let himself wonder why he even bothered taking a shower.  It was a large cavern, the water glowing a soft blue all around him. He swam over to a set of steps and climbed up them, only to be greeted with a wet shirt to the face.

 “Ugh, Pidge, why?” He whined pulling it off and tossing in back.

 Pidge, the traitor, of course caught it.

 As Lance’s eye adjusted to the dark, he could see a furry being wrapped around her neck. “So, how’s Kitty Rose?”

 The calico blinked it’s vivid green eyes, brighter than any Lance had ever seen as if in response, _Better than you_ it seemed to say. Lance had never felt more attacked by any cat than this one.

 Pidge was perched on a rock wrapped up in new warm dry clothes, wet ones, laid against the cool rock to dry. She blinked over at him, sipping coffee from her thermos, owlish eyes bored.

 “Hey can you like...turn around? Or something...” Lance made a shooing motion with his hand.

 She shrugged and turned around. Kitty Rose merely rotated her head, and if it was possible, he could swear that’s cat’s eyes were even bigger.

 Lance stuck his tongue out. The cat yawned.

 As Lance changed (with his completely unsupportive feline audience) there was a loud splash on the opposite side of the cavern. Pidged whooped. “Ahh, ten outta ten Hunk! Excellent form!”

 Hunk emerged from the water bowing and beaming.

 “What happened?” he asked, tugging his shirt down and tossing Hunk a towel.

 "Hunk and I have been experimenting in the art of diving,” She adjusted her glasses and seemed to be about to say more when footsteps echoed out into the cavern and a woman darted forward towards all of them. On her heels three more small shadows smoothly glided in silhouetted by the bright light of the door that was flung open.

 “Pidge - you’re safe. Coran and I feared the worst.” She rushed forward, long hair buffeting Lance and she embraced Pidge, so tall that she had to kneel to be able to reach the shorter girl.  Pidge was engulfed by the hug. She turned then to Lance and Hunk, and pulled them both into her arms. It would have been suffocating if it hadn’t felt so safe, the smell of cardamom combined with the smell of fresh laundry. For a few seconds, Lance let himself relax.  

 Something tugged on the back of Lance’s leg as the embrace ended. He turned, beaming, “Blu...oh, you know I can’t stay away from you long mamí.”

 “Ugh, Lance _please_ , she’s a _cat_ ,” Pidge grumbled.

 “Beauty has no species dear Pidge,” he shot back  picking up the gray cat and draping her over his shoulders. She nuzzled his chin as if in agreement.  

 They all turned to Allura - Hunk now too with an armful of sandy tabby fur. As if in acknowledgement, the mood strangely formal after the hugs they had exchanged moments before. In the glowing cavern her blue eyes shone bright, dark skin almost reflecting the light, and Lance was struck (as he always was) how ethereal the woman looked.

 “Allura,” Pidge started solemnly, “I know that things will be difficult in the coming days but I-”

 “There is no question that you will be staying with me and Coran.” She shook her head, “I can’t believe you’d even ask such an absurd question. The answer will always be yes, Pidge - and to all of you.”

 “Aw, I knew you couldn’t resist me-” Blue, quite gracefully, dabbed the tip of her paw into his mouth. He sputtered.

 “We’re really grateful, but you  -” Hunk pushed the sputtering Lance aside, “We should really redo the wards on the place.”

 “A worthy feat indeed, but you redid them last time you visited Hunk, but if you’d really like...” A ginger haired man walks out behind Allura illuminated by the light in the doorway.

 Hunk exchanged glances with the cat on his shoulder.  “Yeeeeaaaah… I’m going to redo them.” The cat blinked slowly as if in agreement and jumped off his shoulder. He leaned over to the pile of dry clothes and grabbed a nondescript cylinder next to it, making no time in sprinkling it onto the ground in quick long flourishes, muttering something under his breath that isn’t quite English but didn’t sound like any other language either. Pidge and Lance glanced towards Allura as he did so.

 “Do we have to wait for him?” Pidge questioned.

 Allura gave her a sympathetic glance. “You all must be cold,” she said simply and with a flourish turned towards the door in the tall stone wall beckoning them all in.

* * *

 

Somewhere else there is a tree, gnarled and old, branches hung with moss rather than leaves. It is the only sign of life in the vast dunes, the sands shifting in the distance. But the tree is untouched by the dirt and grime around it, eerily silent despite the wind. There is only one spot of colo: a small glowing egg. And in that tree the egg begins to crack.

 

**Author's Note:**

> It's a new idea I can't seem to dismiss - but I haven't forgotten about TNMLM!


End file.
